Blessed With a Curse
by Everlasting Faerie Light
Summary: After coming across a "Death Note" dropped from the Shinigami world, Mitsu "Light" Yagami's plan to create a Utopian world goes into effect as she mercilessly wipes out criminal after criminal. However, she soon finds herself trapped by the detective L, who not only suspects her of being "Kira," but knows exactly how to get under her skin. Featuring fem!Light, Lxfem!Light.
1. Boredom

Boring.

It was just so boring.

How all of these people went about their daily lives; it was an endless cycle. And endless, repetitive, meaningless cycle. The human body demanded its predictable necessities… food, water, warmth. The human mind absorbed what it wanted to absorb, and rejected what it wanted to reject. These silly beings that claim to rule this planet only feel a narrow range of emotions; yes, these emotions had the potential to intertwine, to become nothing more than a complicated mess… but when broken down, these emotions were just chemical imbalances.

And these chemical imbalances resulted in people doing foolish things for their own selfish reasons. Self-interest, self-gain, self-pleasure, self-indulgence. This world was a rotten place; a horrible, no-good, desecrated wasteland of uselessness.

We are all born, we live useless, meaningless lives, and then we die.

Too simple.

Too mediocre.

Everyday, Mitsu Yagami witnessed the same thing. From the humdrum praises of her family, to the fascination of her teachers and students at both her academic skills, as well as her physical beauty, to the constant, worthless studying… there had to be something more, right? There just had to be. If this was what life was all about, Mitsu wanted out.

She couldn't help but yearn for something bigger; surely, with her skills, she was meant to do something great. Something fantastical. That constant, dry thirst made her insides ache for some sort of satisfaction… a satisfaction that she stifled with grace and eloquence. Mitsu lived her life the way people wanted her to live her life out of pure boredom. The only entertainment she experienced was observing these pathetic people with her cold, critical eye… picking each person a part piece by piece, see past their masks, their stupid little behavioral habits, their greedy desires.

Humanity was pathetic.

The day was a normal one… a bit too normal. The sky was that same, industrial gray, emphasized by the thick clouds which tarnished the potentially blue heavens. Sitting in the classroom was nothing new for Mitsu; neither was being called on with the expectation of spouting an intelligent, well-thought out answer without so much as a blink of an eye.

The teenage girl's light brown eyes were fixed on the scenery displayed outside the clear window. With a subtle breath, Mitsu's lips downturned into a grimace. The green grass was marked with a trail of footprints, and the feeble looking trees stood at the base of the buildings, their branches attempting to add charm to the campus. Why did everything have to be so orderly? So common? So cliché? So…so… boring?

The droning words of Professor Okinawa flowed into her brain, a specific, deductive part of it absorbing them and breaking them apart into categories… mental files in which she would access at a later time. In approximately thirty six seconds, classes would end.

Mitsu turned her gaze forward, her lips set in a straight line, her back stiff and her hands folded in front of her in a graceful manner. A quick scan displayed the fact that all of her belongings were already packed away thanks to her frighteningly accurate mental clock.

With the sound of the bell and the dismissal given by Mr. Okinawa, Mitsu stood up in one swift motion, swinging her bag over her shoulder. Her long, brown, slightly curly hair bounced, and her sharp, calculating gaze was fixed forward as she made her way out of the classroom. She did not bother to make eye contact with any of her fellow peers; they weren't worth her time. However, that did not eliminate the fact that she could pick up their laughter, their individual conversations and their different implications… the meandering lack of excitement.

"Mitsu!"

The teen's eye twitched in slight irritation, though, she was very good at masking it…so good in fact that she did not look irritated in the slightest. Pulling one of her warmest smiles, Mitsu spun around to face Sakura Takahashi. A medium-sized girl of about five foot three, a round face, short, black hair that reached to the bottom of her chin, wide, almond-shaped eyes, long limbs, medium-sized breasts, and a dimpled, genuine smile that always suggested overwhelming respect and kindness.

Sakura Takahashi has always shown a great interest in Mitsu, from her accomplishments, to her attitude, to her looks… so, this daily confrontation was expected.

"Hello, Sakura," greeted Mitsu in a bright voice. "I hope that you have had a good day. Have you been studying hard?"

"Yes, yes! Of course! I've been studying really hard, but I know that I'll never be on top like you are, Mitsu! You're a genius!" she responded with bright enthusiasm, the twinkle in her eye brightening.

"Well, I wouldn't call myself a genius; and don't underestimate yourself Sakura. You never know what you can accomplish if you believe in yourself."

Mitsu was laughing internally at how these people ate this all up; her sugar-coated, over-optimistic, meaningless bullshit. Did the world really see her with so much reverence?

The other girl's eyes were literally glowing. "Thank you! You are so wonderful, Mitsu! Maybe sometime, you can help me study? And maybe…maybe you can help me with my hair. Yours is so beautiful; I'm extremely jealous!"

Oh, please. Despite her growing irritation, Mitsu managed to let out a natural, good-natured laugh before responding, "When I have time, of course. As you know, I am extremely busy. But I can always find time in my schedule; you know my number, right? Contact me, anytime. See you tomorrow, Sakura; my mother is expecting me home."

"Of course! Goodbye, and have a wonderful evening, Mitsu!" Sakura waved a bit too enthusiastically, that grin on her face never wavering before she spun around and literally skipped off; in a disturbing sense, it was almost as if she were on cloud nine.

Of course, it wouldn't be uncommon for both men and women to desire Mitsu; after all, she was considered to be the most beautiful and talented girl at Daikoku. She was very small and fragile looking, yet she managed to obtain that strong sense of grace and authority with just one look. Her serious, calculating, yet charming face seemed to attract many admirers. Not only that, but many of the women were jealous of her hair… her long, curly, acorn-colored hair. Mitsu wasn't oblivious to this; she knew that she was beautiful, envied, desired. But none of it mattered to her one bit… except for the fact that she could use her physical beauty to her advantage when need be.

The smile slipped off of her face as quickly as it had come. Mitsu made her way outside, the damp, slightly chilly air wafting over her skin. In all honesty, it was a bit of a relief compared to the stuffiness of the classroom.

What a long, uneventful day. Mitsu had to admit that she was a bit tired of smiling, being called on, and stared at as if she were some sort of goddess. It was just all the same. Nothing to look forward t—

Oh?

What's this?

The small teen saw something out of the corner of her eye. Turning her head, she squinted, focusing her attention on something small and black laying in the grass, not even six feet away from her. Deciding that she had nothing else to occupy her time, Mitsu made her way toward the object, craning her neck so as to keep her gaze focused on the ground.

It was a notebook. A black notebook. She bent over carefully, her hand gripping it firmly as she picked it up. It was warm at the touch.

On the cover were the words DEATH NOTE. Hmm… interesting. Mitsu turned turned it around to examine it… there seemed to be nothing else on the surface of the notebook. With a soft scoff, the teen realized that a foolish, irresponsible student with strange, dark taste in style probably dropped it while hurrying off to his or her next class.

However, something about the strange notebook seemed to fascinate her. Looking over her shoulder with a sense of precaution, Mitsu flipped it open, flipping through the white, blank pages. Of course. It was just an empty notebook. Nothing more, nothing less… but…wait.

There was something there… written on the inside of the front cover.

Mitsu paused, holding the notebook open as her eyes scanned the words with the utmost care.

DEATH NOTE

HOW TO USE IT I

-The person whose name is written in this note shall die.

-This note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing his/her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected.

-If the cause of death is written within 40 seconds of writing that person's name, it will happen.

-If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart attack.

-After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written in the next 6 minutes and 40 seconds.

xX

Mitsu rose an eyebrow as she read over the instructions of this "Death Note" once again. There was no possible way that this could be real; unlike many others, she did not allow herself to be a superstitious person. Superstition was a ridiculous waste of time.

The girl huffed, a skeptical tone coating her breath as she snapped the notebook shut. It would be best to just set the notebook down back on the ground where she found it. It would be of no use to her. However, just as she was about to do so, a strange, unexplainable feeling shot through her; it was warm, deliciously sinister. Something about it both repelled and drew the Mitsu in, like a honeybee to a brightly-colored flower.

With a small shake of her head, Mitsu's grip on the notebook tightened before she carefully opened her bag and placed it in among her other schoolbooks.

It wouldn't hurt to test this so called "Death Note" out, would it? After all, it was just a simple, black notebook… designs and tastes these days were strange… it shouldn't be odd for a company to construct "Death Note" notebook, would it? It would definitely appeal to a specific group of teens.

But, say that it did work. What would be the possible consequences? According to the book, unless Mitsu wrote down the cause of death of a specific person, that person will simply die of a heart-attack. There would be no possible way that a death like that could be investigated for possible homicide… no possible way for a innocent, high-school student like Mitsu to be convicted of murder.

No…no. These were ridiculous thoughts. It was just a simple notebook. A bunch of lined paper bound together. The most harm that this "Death Note" could do would be to give someone a paper-cut.

Nevertheless, Mitsu's facial expression darkened ever so slightly, her hands clenching at the idea of holding a possible weapon of mass destruction. It was this feeling… this warm, hungry feeling that would not go away.

It would never go away.


	2. A Potential Weapon of Mass Destruction

She didn't understand this feeling. This strange, warm, supernatural feeling that swirled in strange patterns, starting at the bottom of her toes, and flowing up and up and up... all the way until it filled every single crevice of her brain. The notebook seemed to carry a strange weight with it as it sat in her bag; though it was lightest object in comparison to her other textbooks, she could sense its glaring presence… a presence that seemed to nag at her, to beg for her to look down and reach her hand into the depths of the bag.

Mitsu's frown deepened as she blinked a few times, trying to rid her head of such ridiculous thoughts. It wasn't real. It couldn't be real. There was no such thing as a notebook with the power to take the life of a human being in the span of forty seconds; such notions were superstitious, ludicrous, and time-consuming. Reaching into the side pocket of her bag, she pulled out the house key and quickly unlocked the door. Due to the sound of the blaring television from the living room, her mother and her younger sister, Sayou, were definitely home.

"Mother, I'm home!" Mitsu called out, removing her shoes before stepping onto the shining, wooden floor. The teen straightened her back once more, waiting for her mother to come forth and give her usual two-minute welcome back greeting. And sure enough, Mrs. Sachiko Yagami came skittering up to her academically-superior, seventeen-year-old daughter, a bright grin playing on her lips.

"Mitsu! How was school?" the woman chirped in a pleasant voice. However, before Mitsu could answer, Sayou came bounding forward, an enthusiastic smile on her youthful face. "Mitsu! Mitsu! Guess what? You know Toshio? That boy I was talking to you about? He thinks that I'm pretty! He told me so during English class! He is soooooo cute!"

"Sayou, please calm down," chimed Mrs. Yagami, much to the chagrin of Sayou. However, Mitsu chuckled lightly, flashing her sister a soft, faintly amused smile.

"The usual; school is school, mother. Nothing really exciting happened," she replied with a small ounce of humor laced in her voice. However, instead of replying, Mrs. Yagami held out her hand, an excited look of determination in her face as she gazed at her daughter.

Right. The examination results.

With a small sigh, Mitsu reached into her back, her heart giving a small jolt as her fingers brushed over the Death Note. After scolding herself mentally, she quickly whipped out the neatly folded piece of paper with the results of her examination and handed them to her mother, the smile never leaving her face.

Mrs. Yagami quickly unfolded the piece of paper, her eyes skimming over the contents, obviously looking for the results. "Well done, Mitsu. Number one, as always!" she chimed, a large smile forming on her lips. "Would you like anything? How about I make you a special dinner?"

The teen started to head toward the stairs, an impatient twitch forming in her eye. "No, thanks. I'm going upstairs to study. Entrance exams are coming up soon," she said before quickly making her way up the rest of the stairs, opening her bedroom door, and closing it behind her. After a few short moments, Mitsu took a seat at the foot of her bed, her lips tight as her hand fished for the Death Note. Pulling it out of her bag, she examined it again, turning it over a few times, her eyes searching for any…any sign. Any indication that this may be some sort of strange, elaborate prank.

Mitsu opened the notebook once again, her eyes scanning over the words, the tips of her fingertips feeling strangely warm. This was… she had to admit… this was extremely well thought out for a note-book company, or a prank. Is this the sort of thing that her generation was into? School notebooks designed to look like a murder weapon? How sadistic.

But… what… if… say that this Death Note was real. If she decided to test it out, to write someone's name in the book, and that person died, would that make her a murderer? Wait… no. Mitsu scoffed, shaking her head. What was she thinking? There was no possible way that this notebook was real. Writing someone's name on a page of this notebook would do no more harm than writing your own name on a school assignment.

So, what was the harm in trying it out? Was she being stupid for even considering it? And even if someone did die, would it really matter? There was no possible way that she could be caught; not if that person died from a spontaneous heart attack. Plus, the world could do without one person, right? Mitsu's eyes narrowed as she flipped the notebook open to the first page and quickly set it on her desk. The lamplight flooded the eerily white page, a strange, heartless void. With a stable hand, she grabbed a ballpoint pen from her wooden pen holder and held it over the page.

Who's name to write?

If this thing was real… which it most likely wasn't, it wouldn't be safe to write a fellow classmate's name. Hmm…

Setting the pen down, Mitsu sighed and flipped the television on, staring at the screen in a bored fashion. Of course. According to the news, some idiot criminal was holding some people hostage in Shinjuku. And they have finally identified the criminal as forty two year old…

…Kurou Otoharada.

Something strange zipped through her whole body as she examined his picture. A middle-aged, sullen looking man with sunken, circled eyes, a grim, tight-lipped grimace… soulless. Disgusting.

Mitsu's fingers immediately reached for the pen once more, her grip tightening around it as she quickly scrawled the name down in the notebook, staring at the ink as it dripped on the age, the image of the man's face encrypted in her brain.

Kurou Otoharada. Kurou Otoharada. Kurou Otoharada…

_Kurou Otoharada._

Mitsu felt a sense of breathlessness as she stared at the name, written in her own, neat handwriting. Putting the pen down, she glanced at her watch.

Forty Seconds.

Thirty five….

Thirty…

Twenty...

Ten…

Five…

Four…

Three…

Two…

One…

Silence.

Nothing but the buzzing of the news report.

Mitsu breathed out in disappointment. Of course. She knew that she was being ridiculous for thinking that the notebook had the potential to work. How stupid.

So what now? The notebook was obviously useless; maybe it was best to just discard it. She already had plenty of notebooks. Another one would just be an inconvenient nuisance; not to mention a waste of space.

"…It has been reported that the suspect has just collapsed. The hostages are being freed as we speak…"

Mitsu froze, her breath catching in her throat. Her mouth went dry as her eyes shifted towards the television screen once more. Did it… did it really…

"As of now, we have just received news that Kurou Otaharada has undergone cardiac arrest, and is not breathing. The authorities are heading into the building right now…"

The girl's head was spinning as she stared at the notebook sitting innocently upon her desk, the white page staring at her, marked with her own handwriting.

She had written his name down in the notebook.

And he had… died?

Did she just murder somebody?

Mitsu squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head from side to side. No, she couldn't just go off on a tangent right now. She had to think straight and rationally. Take a deep breath and mull things over for a moment.

According to the notebook, the person whose name is written will die of a heart attack in forty seconds.

Check.

She thought of his face.

She wrote his name down.

And he collapsed.

It couldn't just be coincidence right? Mitsu held her breath as she grabbed the notebook, snapped it shut, and placed it in her school bag, clutching it close to her chest, her heart pounding violently against her chest.

She had to test it out again. Just to be sure. If it worked, then that would prove the Death Note's authenticity. If this notebook proved to be authentic, then… then she'd have a weapon of mass destruction on her hands.

And with something this powerful, this valuable in her hands, she would never EVER let it go. No, she would keep it safe. She would consider it her most valuable treasure.

Mitsu took a seat on the edge of her bed again, her eyes glazed over as she stared at the television screen, a strange warm weight cascading over her arms as she held the bag that contained the Death Note.

Tonight. Tonight, she'd test it out.

But she couldn't be careless; no, she couldn't just write down the name of some shit-face who pissed her off in mathematics class. Or some humdrum professor that bored her to tears.

She'd have to write down the name of someone who deserved to die. And maybe… just maybe, she'd have to put herself in a dangerous situation to obtain a name and a face.

Up close and personal.


	3. The First Experiment

8:00 PM.

Dark. All dark except for the dank street lights that lit the surprisingly barren street. An unnatural amount of cracks littered the pavement and the night air around here held a rancid scent. Just looking at the scene made one realize that this was not the place for a young, seventeen year old girl to go wandering in.

Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Many may call Mitsu's plan to be stupid and reckless. The chances of her getting injured, raped, or killed increase about forty percent in this area of the city in comparison to the more populated, civilian-friendly region. The odds also worked against her favor due to her looks and stature. Not only was she considered beautiful by many, but she was extremely small, even in comparison to many of the other girls at Daikoku and Gamou.

So here she was. Mitsu Yagami, a small 147 centimeter tall, 36 kilogram Japanese girl walking down a dark, criminal-infested slum, with nothing but a school bag. However, the teen walked through the darkness without so much as a blink of an eye. Not even a single shiver passed down her spine. No; she was determined. Absolutely determined to prove the authenticity of this notebook. This potential weapon… a weapon that she could use. The very idea sent a strange feeling of warmth throughout her whole body; a feeling that she could not yet identify.

She quickly checked the time… 8:02. If the death note was real, then the plan should take effect at any second now… in three… two… one…

"Well, look who it is."

That voice. That voice was usually enough to send anyone running for the hills. It was the voice that had haunted Mitsu's nightmares for years. That gravelly, sleazy voice, dripping with lust and venom.

"Long time, no see, sweetheart."

Kenta Hachirou.

Mitsu would never forget that name.

She wouldn't forget it when she read his nametag nine years ago… when he had grabbed her arm and shoved her against the brick wall with such force that she had almost blacked out, and she sure as hell wouldn't forget it now.

It was a wonder that the disgusting fool even remembered who she was.

Mitsu's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, though, in the ghostly light emitted from the street lamp, her face remained stone cold and unyielding as she stared at the slimy bastard. His eyes were sunken in, his dirty matted mustache and long, greasy dark hair were just as she remembered them, his leering, gag-inflicting smile was both cold and wretched at the same time. And, to top it all off… he was wearing his signature wardrobe… a grease-stained, dark blue, fast-food uniform. As expected, the idiot didn't even think to remove his name tag.

The teen stood there unflinching, the warm weight of the Death Note in her bag ever-present.

"So, you've come back for more, huh?"

Mitsu's lips tilted up into the slightest of smirks.

Just a few more moments. She'd play along for now.

Kenta's brow furrowed as he received no reaction whatsoever. His lips curled into a snarl as she started to advance forward. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Answer me you little bitch! You want more? You want me to shove it in like I did before? You liked it didn't you?"

How pathetic.

Mitsu had to bite back the urge to laugh as she observed just how stupid he made himself look. How disgusting he was.

She wanted to imprint this image into her brain, to never forget the look on his face at this very second. That snarling, angry, desperate look… that uncontrollably, hilarious, sickeningly lust-filled look. Just the thought of what was going to happen next filled her with an unexpected burst of glee.

She knew it was going to work. For some reason, a gut feeling in her stomach told her that the Death Note was authentic.

And she would watch this bastard meet his end.

And it would be beautiful. So, so beautiful.

"If you're lucky, I'll even be a bit gentler this time," he said with a cackle, his shadow now looming over her. He was so close… so, so close. Mitsu could smell him… that mixed stench of cigarettes, body odor, and liquor. Any normal person would back up, fall over in fear, scramble, run… but no. She stood stock still, never taking her cold, flat eyes off of Kenta Hachirou… the man who had defiled her, destroyed her, mutated her as an eight year old child. The man who had never left Mitsu's mind. The nine-year-old memory resurfaced as the scent washed over her, yet, it didn't affect her. She addressed it for what it was. An unfortunate event. An unfortunate event that would be paid for with justice.

"What the fucking hell is wrong with you? Stop playing around with me. I am going to fuck you so hard, you bitch th—"

Bam.

Time's up.

A grin broke out on Mitsu's face before she saw the man's eyes widen in shock. She watched with a sense of growing satisfaction as Kenta Hachirou let out a yelp, stumbled backwards, and started to claw at his cheeks, his fingers itching away at the skin in a furious fashion.

The man gave another scream as he attempted to control his hands, but to no avail. His screams echoed through the dark alleyway as his hands clasped onto his jaw and pulled. He pulled and pulled and pulled, his face going red, his eyes rolling back, and his screams growing more and more choked.

The skin started to tear, and the blood started to pour. Yet, no matter how much he thrashed, squirmed, and screamed, he couldn't stop his hands from pulling.

With a crack, Mitsu knew that he had officially snapped the bone. The blood was uncontrollable now, pouring out in waterfalls, staining his hands, neck, and shirt… dripping on the cracked pavement, staining the darkness in scarlet. His jaw elongated as he kept working on ripping the bottom half off, his tongue lolling like some sick, stupid puppy.

Finally, he broke through the last sinews of skin. The wide-eyed, bewildered Kenta held the bottom half of his jaw in his blood soaked hands, his tongue hanging down, the blood spilling and the chunks of flesh dripping at uneven intervals.

With one final, lifeless jerk , Kenta Hachirou collapsed onto the ground, the sound of his skull cracking against the pavement echoing through the street. The lamp illuminated the scarlet that coated almost every inch of the corpse's body, his arms limp and outstretched, one of them still clutching weakly onto the jaw.

Mitsu sucked in a breath as she stared at the pile of shit, her eyes still flat.

Was she satisfied?

As she thought, she never took her eyes off of the body.

She knew that she should be shocked by what she had just done. She had ruthlessly murdered another human being in one of the most grotesque ways possible. She had watched a man pull his own jaw off without so much as blinking an eye.

However, she didn't feel that panging feeling of guilt, that nauseating feeling of horror. No. All she felt was…

Accomplishment.

Task done.

Justice served.

This mother-fucker deserved it.

And that was that.

She couldn't help it.

The smile grew and grew and grew.

Here she was, Mitsu Yagami. Owner of this newfound Death Note.

With this weapon, this torch of victory… she had finally found her purpose in life.

This world was rotten. Absolutely rotten. Vile, filthy. Those disgusting creatures who called themselves human, who ran around molesting children and ruthlessly murdering innocent families. Those selfish bitches and whores and bastards… they deserved to die.

With this Death Note, Mitsu would purge the world of all of its uncleanliness, one criminal at a time. And soon, they would live in a world devoid of violence and crime… where only the kind and just prevailed. And Mitsu… with this Death Note in hand, would become a goddess.

She would become the goddess of this new world.

_Kenta Hachirou _

_At precisely 8:03 PM, Kenta Hachirou will walk to the middle of the street right across from Tetsu's Marketplace in pursuit of a young, adolescent girl. Precisely one minute later, he will rip his own jaw right off using his hands, thus resulting in death by uncontrollable bleeding. _


End file.
